
The emotional pain, the heartache, the heartbreak
Of a monumental loss,
Is not something you just experience once,
But something you experience over and over and over again.
💔
You feel the power of grief the minute you open your eyes each morning,
When you experience the trauma of a crippling loss anew,
One moment you’re moving through your day,
And then the next you’re hit with a wave of torment.
💔
Some days it’s an hourly occurrence,
A crippling shock that zaps your heart until it shatters,
Breaking you once more,
Over and over and over again.
💔
Like a wave of emotional torture,
Creeping up on you when least you expect it,
Possibly due to a flood of memories,
Or one thought that crashes over your head, as you drown in pain.
💔
Every waking minute a turmoil of loss, of pain,
Until you climb wearily into your bed at the end of the day,
The last thought of the heartbreak you’re living,
Missing them, a physical agony you’re not sure you’ll survive.
💔
You never lose a loved one just once,
No, you lose them over and over and over again,
And each time it cripples you, as you battle to breathe,
The pain beating in your chest, your heart, your teary eyes.
💔
No, you never lose someone just once,
The loss is a haunting repetition, over and over again,
Sometimes you lose them a hundred times in a single day,
Like a wave drowning you in grief.
💔
The pain is never ending,
A constant you can predict,
A heart full of love with nowhere to go,
Because you never, ever, lose someone just once, but over and over again.

Please click the link below my name to read more of my work. I would also like to thank you for taking the time to read this today and for all your support.
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Please visit my website if you'd like more information on my newly published book, Battle Angel : The Ultimate She Warrior.

Originally published on Medium
About the Creator
Colleen Millsteed
My first love is poetry — it’s like a desperate need to write, to free up space in my mind, to escape the constant noise in my head. Most of the time the poems write themselves — I’m just the conduit holding the metaphorical pen.
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